


Where the Water Was

by blackcoffee13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Mystery and Intrigue, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28904748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackcoffee13/pseuds/blackcoffee13
Summary: “Why bring me into it?” Severus asked, hiding his rising interest behind his usual air of indifference.“I can think of no other person on this planet whose knowledge of the Dark Arts is as vast as yours, sir. Certainly no one else’s that I could trust.”“Why trust me?”Hermione shrugged. “Why not, sir?”When Minerva McGonagall writes to Severus asking for his help solving an exceedingly complicated mystery, he wasn't planning on it being to help save Hermione Granger. But now that he's started, how can heevergo back?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 57
Kudos: 114





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, I've learned nothing from my last two long fics, so here I am starting another. I'm happy to see y'all coming on this journey with me, and I should warn y'all now: I'm expecting yelling ;)
> 
> Also, a shout out to my lovely beta, turtle wexler, for putting up with my chaotic writing style. Any mistakes are completely mine.

Whatever Severus Snape might’ve expected out of this arrangement when he agreed to it six months previously, being balls-deep inside Hermione Granger as he pounded into her from behind wouldn’t have made any sort of potential lists that he might’ve made.

But, here he was, his hands holding onto her hips with a bruising grip, his teeth gritted as he fought off his orgasm for just a few seconds longer, needing to hear the scream that was bubbling up in her throat to actually spill out of her lips.

“Come for me witch…” He growled. “...come for me _now_.”

_Six Months Previously_

Staring up at Hogwarts, Severus felt a familiar scowl start to take a hold of his features, and he had to remind himself that he was here on invitation. He could leave at any moment.

But he was _wanted_. He’d been invited because Minerva had a _favor_ to ask of him.

He didn’t have any sort of idea what that meant, obviously, but if she could put the past behind her then so could he.

Slowly making his way up the path from the main gate, Severus did his best to let thoughts of the past float away, concentrating instead on coming up with ideas for why Minerva might’ve called him.

Her letter had been vague, simply stating that she had a request for him - one that could potentially take up a fair amount of his time - but she wanted to discuss the logistics of it in person.

So, here he was. Stalking up the path to the castle that he’d left behind all those years ago.

He hadn’t been back since the final battle, had he? Just over seven years had passed since that night, and while there had been previous invitations for him to come back, he hadn’t felt the inclination to accept before now.

Those other invitations had been from the Ministry, for their “Heroes Ball” every year on the anniversary of the battle.

Why return? Why relive the hurt? He’d nearly _died_ on these grounds after all - more than once, truth be told, but he was only thinking about the most recent incident - and why should he want to be reminded of that?

Why would he want to be reminded of all those he couldn’t save?

And here he was _thinking about it_ again after he’d just sworn to himself that he was going to do anything but.

He was meant to be contemplating Minerva’s request.

_Dear Severus,_ her letter had started. He’d read it enough times now to have it memorized.

_Dear Severus,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. Perhaps that sounds trite, but I mean it earnestly._

_I would like to extend an invitation to you to join me for tea this following Saturday at 3pm in my office at Hogwarts. While part of this tea will be spent with the two of us catching up - don’t roll your eyes, Severus; one of these days they’ll get stuck - for a much larger part of it I would like to discuss something serious with you._

_You see, Severus, I have recently had a rather interesting mystery fall into my lap, and it is a mystery that I do not have the means to solve._

_I believe, however, that you do, though it may take you quite some time to actually solve it._

_The owl has been instructed to await your reply. I do hope that you’ll come, even if it ends up being just for the tea. I’m making shortbread as well. I can’t imagine that sweet tooth of yours having gone away over the last few years._

_All my best,  
Minerva_

_P.S. The password to my office is Duro._

Severus was honestly a little mad that Minerva had known how to get him to agree to come. Between a good mystery and her shortbread, how could he possibly deny her?

But a mystery that she couldn’t solve? That was what intrigued him the most. What could possibly stump Minerva McGonagall, after all, current Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?

_Dark Magicks_. Severus thought to himself. _It’ll have to have something to do with Dark Magicks..._

He was a bit lost in his thoughts as he made his way up the steps to the main entrance, though he paused just a handful from the top, lifting his head just in time to notice the main door swing open in invitation.

When no one came out to greet him, Severus realized that it was Hogwarts itself that was welcoming him in.

_Don’t get used to me again._ He thought. _I’m no good for you, remember?_

But a warmth settled over him as he crossed the threshold, and a whisper of something vibrated in his bones that felt a lot like something saying ‘welcome home.’

He did his best to shake it off as he moved farther inside, gliding through the hallways and stalking up the moving stairs until he came to be standing outside of the Headmistress’ office, feeling a scowl once more taking hold of his features as he took in the familiar gargoyle before him.

“Duro,” he muttered, half-expecting the gargoyle to not move, but he arched an eyebrow as it began to rotate and he was allowed to climb the stairs.

It had been years since he’d been inside this room, and yet still Severus felt a bit of tension growing in his chest as he paused outside the familiar door. He didn’t know what was on the other side, after all, and was admittedly a touch concerned about the prospects.

Still, he raised his hand to knock, and only had to wait a moment before the door swung open and Minerva was there, the smell of freshly baked shortbread following after her a second later.

“You actually came.”

“You sound surprised. I replied as much in my letter.”

“Yes, but you’re rather notorious for being a shut in, Severus Snape, and I wasn’t sure if even my shortbread was enough to get you out of your hermitage these days.”

Severus chuckled a hint at that but made no effort to move yet, waiting for Minerva to do so first.

“At least you’ve been taking care of yourself,” she tutted, stepping back and inviting him in with a sweep of her arm. “It looks like you’ve even taken in a bit of sun.”

“I’ve taken up gardening in my old age.”

He chuckled again as Minerva hit him on the arm for his cheek, a faint smile lingering on his lips even after she’d moved him farther into her office and encouraged him to take a seat.

Minerva had changed the office since she’d taken hold of it, hadn’t she? Gone were the ostentatious astrological instrumentations that had taken up much of Albus’ office, now replaced with cozy chairs and side tables.

She’d softened the room, made it more approachable. Warmer.

Severus felt himself relaxing even further, and a moment later realized that Minerva had even charmed the air to smell like vanilla, further encouraging comfort for all those visiting.

She wanted to be approachable. Didn’t want to seem like the high and mighty headmaster who conducted business in quiet and mysterious ways.

She didn’t want to be Albus Dumbledore, and it showed.

But Severus kept those thoughts to himself as he took a seat at the little table by the window, reaching for a piece of shortbread and biting into it before Minerva had the chance to scold him.

They started quietly chatting then, catching up, with Minerva regaling him with stories of the most recent batch of first years, and Severus felt himself properly grinning more than a few times.

“You know, Severus-” Minerva chuckled at one point. “-if you ever want to return to your previous post, I’ll happily take you on. OWL and NEWT scores haven’t been _nearly_ as high for Potions since you left the position.”

“I have missed the food and your company and very little else since my departure from this school, Minerva. To return would be… Foolhardy at best.”

Minerva sighed at that, though the look on her face said that she wasn’t surprised by his answer in the slightest.

“Very well. I suppose it’s for the best anyway. I can’t have you here _and_ out solving the mystery I wrote to you about.”

Severus sat up a bit straighter in his chair at that. “Yes, I _was_ beginning to wonder when we were going to get around to your letter. I have to admit that I am… Rather intrigued by your missive.”

“It’s a complicated situation, but I-”

Whatever Minerva was about to say was cut off suddenly by a quiet knock on her office door, and the witch straightened in her seat quickly before rising to her feet and gliding over to answer said knock.

“Ah, my other guest has arrived.”

“ _Other_ guest? Minerva, what are you-?”

But Minerva was already at the door, swinging it open with a flourish and embracing the person on the other side of the door with a warm enthusiasm that Severus didn’t quite understand.

“You made it!”

“My apologies for being late,” the visitor cooed, her voice warm and familiar to Severus, though he couldn’t quite place it just yet.

“Think nothing of it. We were just getting started.”

Minerva moved aside then to usher this other guest into the room, and Severus rose to his feet in greeting, though he froze in place before he could take a step forward.

Because now he knew why the voice was familiar.

Hermione Granger was there, slowly moving into the room with a gentle smile on her features, one hand holding onto a rather large leather portfolio case while the other was gripping a walking cane, of all things.

But the last seven years did not seem to have been as kind to Hermione Granger as they had been for him.

Where he had lost some of his sickly pallor, she seemed to have gained it. Where he’d taken on weight, she’d lost it, a certain sharpness present about her face that he wouldn’t have expected on one so young.

But most telling of all was her hair. The once wild, unimaginably unruly beast seemed… Docile, for lack of a better term. She had it twisted up into a simple knot at the base of her skull, but there were no flyaways, no straining hair ties or pins to keep it in check. If anything it looked almost _flat_ even in its pulled-back state, and that - more than anything else - was what gave Severus pause.

“Master Snape!” Hermione grinned, taking a small step towards him. “I’m glad you came. It’s good to see you again, sir!”

Her use of his honorific title was enough to shake him from his momentary daze, and he schooled his features into something more cordial as he gave a brief bow of his head.

“Miss Granger. I must say that I am… Surprised to see you here. I had thought that tea would just be between myself and Minerva this afternoon.”

“I told you there was a mystery, Severus,” Minerva clucked, ushering Hermione over to her previously-occupied chair and helping her down into it before she conjured another for herself. “And here she is.”

“...I don’t follow.”

“Hermione Granger _is_ the mystery.”

Severus felt his familiar scowl start to take hold again. “I know you are trying to explain yourself Minerva, but I don’t se-”

“I’m dying, sir,” Hermione interrupted in a very no-nonsense sort of way. “I am dying and my ailment has confounded every single Healer in Europe. I have written to Healers in Asia, Africa _and_ the Americas and received either no response or no satisfactory one.”

She moved to open her portfolio case then, undoing the closings of it to reveal that some sort of extension charm had been placed on it. Surely something so slim couldn’t realistically hold so many documents otherwise.

“I started documenting my symptoms once I began to properly notice them, and began researching alongside the Healers at St Mungo’s for what could be the cause of my ailment. To the best of our conclusions, we’ve determined that I’m dying from an as-yet unidentified dark curse.”

“Why bring me into it?” Severus asked, hiding his rising interest behind his usual air of indifference.

“I can think of no other person on this planet whose knowledge of the Dark Arts is as vast as yours, sir. Certainly no one else’s that I could trust.”

“Why trust me?”

Hermione shrugged. “Why not, sir?”

Severus suddenly thought - quite darkly - that Gryffindors really _were_ going to be the death of him before he gave Granger a singular nod, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers before his lips before he replied.

“Very well, Granger. Tell me what you know.”

And with those eight words, Severus Snape started himself down on a path from which he would never return.

A path, it would later be revealed, that he was always meant to travel.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction of sorts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I was _not_ prepared for the reception that I received for the prologue of this story, but thanks y'all so much! I hope I'm not a colossal disappointment!
> 
> And, as always, a huge thank you to my beta, the incomparable turtle wexler <3 Any mistakes you catch are entirely mine.

Granger was looking at him with an emotion he couldn’t quite name, her hands hovering over the files in her portfolio case, and Severus was quick to note the slight tremble in the slim digits.

Was that a part of her ailment? Or just nerves…

“You seem shocked, Miss Granger.”

“Perhaps-” she nodded “-though also not. You haven’t actually agreed to help me yet, after all.”

She’d caught that. Good. The witch had learned how to use her intelligence then.

“Nor do I make any promises to do so now. I merely wish to hear your case. I will… Make a decision from there.”

Hermione gave him a small nod of her head, her eyes turning down to her papers for a moment as she contemplated where to begin.

“How would you like me to start, sir? With a list of my ailments? I can do so in either terms of severity or based upon how they struck me chronologically.”

Severus gave a small nod at that, quirking an eyebrow up at Minerva in silent thanks as she refilled his teacup. “Chronologically will suffice.”

Hermione gave a nod of her own at that, rifling through her papers for a moment before pulling out some sort of list from the stack, smoothing her hand over it for a moment to wipe out an invisible wrinkle before she carefully began to read.

_“Mid April, nineteen ninety eight. Tremors have started following events in Malfoy Manor, usually accompanied by mild to moderate headaches. Potentially side effects of exposure to Cruciatus curse._

_“The first of May. Following the events of break-in at Gringott’s and the ensuing escape, am left feeling feverish and achy. Feels like the Cruciatus all over again, though just the start of it. Can not get warm after falling into the lake._

_“The third of May. Everything hurts. Feels like glass slowly running through my veins._

_“The fifth of May. Odd rash has appeared on inner right arm. Headache is finally gone but tremors still linger.”_

She paused for a moment to take a sip of her tea, scanning a bit more of the list for a moment before turning her eyes up towards Severus’ again.

“A lot of this reads the same for the next several months. The headaches dropped off in frequency but grew in intensity.”

Severus could feel his eyebrows draw together just a hint at that, already running a mental checklist on potential things that could be ailing her.

Side effects of the Cruciatus, after all, tended to not linger more than a handful of days.

“Please continue, Miss Granger.”

_”The fourteenth of September: rash has returned. Feels smooth to the touch, though I can feel it thrumming with my heartbe-”_

“Where did you say the rash was, Miss Granger?” Severus interrupted, sitting up straighter in his seat all of a sudden.

“Oh, um… The inside of my right arm.”

“Show me.”

Hermione hesitated at that, her eyes darting over towards Minerva, though the elder witch gave her a calm nod of reassurance.

Taking it as the sign of encouragement that it was, Hermione slowly shifted forward in her seat, extending her arm out towards Severus before slowly sliding the sleeve of her robes up to her elbow.

Severus felt his scowl deepen as he took in the sight before him, and while he wished to take her arm in hand and pull it closer to him to get a better look, the tension in the witch’s arm gave him pause.

“...are you currently experiencing pain in your arm, Miss Granger?”

Hermione gave him a faint nod, her lower lip caught between her teeth for a moment, and Severus was careful to keep an eye on her as he finally reached out to brush his fingers against the discolored discs on her skin.

“On a scale of one to ten, ho-”

“About a six, sir, though the pain spikes when the rash is touched.”

He immediately withdrew his fingers, murmuring an apology to her, instead moving to lean over her a bit so he could get a closer look.

“As you mentioned, it is completely smooth…” He trailed off as he studied it further, taking in sight of the rash on her pale skin, though Severus could feel his eyebrows drawing together again as he took that closer look.

The rash wasn’t comprised of simple circles, was it? The dots were of varying sizes, to be sure, but more than that, various shapes. There was a _fluidity_ of sorts to the pattern, a recognizable one, but Severus was damned if he could identify it just then.

“Will you tell me more about it?”

Hermione nodded, withdrawing her arm from his scrutiny before slowly tugging her sleeve back down her arm, her eyes once more darting over towards Minerva before she answered his question with a slow nod.

“It was much smaller when it first appeared. No bigger than a sickle, really…” She shrugged, pulling her teacup close again, though she didn’t yet take a sip. “...just a handful of dots right in the bend of my elbow. It didn’t _hurt_ , necessarily, but I was acutely aware of it.”

“How so?”

“As I started to mention before, it sort of thrummed with my heartbeat. I don’t have another way to describe it.”

“You felt it beat with your pulse?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“When did it start to spread?”

Hermione returned her attention to her notes for a moment, shuffling through them before tapping her fingers against a singular line of text.

“Just before Christmas in ninety eight. It grew to be about the size of a Galleon that night.”

“Do you have any idea what triggered the expansion?”

She shook her head. “It just grew while I slept.”

Severus frowned at that, but didn’t question it. Surely _something_ triggered the rash growing. Perhaps Granger just hadn’t realized it yet…

“Is it just that spot on your arm, then?”

He was curious to note that the witch’s cheeks suddenly began to redden and she sat up a touch straighter in her chair as she shook her head. “N-no, sir. It’s not.”

Curious.

“Where else has the rash sprung up?”

“I have a detailed list that I can share with you, sir, but I’d rather not list them all out loud if it’s all the same to you.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at her but nodded in agreement, putting aside his own curiosity for a moment in favor of letting her continue.

“What else, Miss Granger?”

“Well, the _biggest_ thing… Well, it’s complicated and I didn’t even realize at first that it was happening, so it’s harder still to put an exact date on when it started bu-”

“What _else_ , Miss Granger?”

Her cheeks warmed again, and Severus made a mental note that she looked more like her younger self then. More full of life.

“...I’m losing my magic, sir.”

He immediately took back the thought. How could she be full of life if she was losing her magic?

“What do you _mean_ you’re losing your magic?”

“I mean exactly that, sir,” Hermione huffed, taking a sip of her tea before she continued. “I mean that I struggle with more complex spells now. I mean that my _Lumos_ isn’t as powerful as it used to be. I mean that things that used to come very naturally to me I now flounder with.”

Severus wasn’t sure what to make of this development, and he leaned forward in his seat again, steadfastly ignoring the knowing smirk that he could see forming on Minerva’s face from the corner of his eye.

“When did you first notice it becoming a problem?”

She didn’t have to look at her notes to respond. “Sixth of January of last year, sir.”

His eyes narrowed at that, and he knew he was somewhat glaring at the witch, but how could he not? It had taken her several _years_ to notice that she was losing her magic? What kind of idio-

“To be fair, sir, as I’ve looked back on it, the loss of magic didn’t start to happen until about three years ago. When I think it started, I was going through a very messy time in my personal life, and I just chalked it up to being overly tired and stressed.”

Severus could feel his confusion grow at her statement, wondering what would’ve been so ‘messy’ about her life that would warrant her neglecting herself at that level.

But he glanced over in time to see Minerva reaching out to rest a hand on top of Hermione’s, giving it a gentle, comforting squeeze, and it dawned on him.

That was when her engagement to Mister Weasley had ended, wasn’t it?

Severus wasn’t the type to involve himself in the affairs of others if he could help it, but that particular article had made the front pages of the _Prophet_. The reason behind their split had been widely speculated since, though no solid details had ever emerged.

“Emotional distress is… Forgivable. It’s also a potential catalyst. Were there any other major events you recorded in your life over the last three years that would correspond to your condition worsening?”

Something shifted across Hermione’s features at his question, a sure sign that there _was_ something, but she shook her head in the negative.

He was about to remind her that it didn’t do her well to lie to him, but then he remembered Minerva’s presence and stopped himself short.

Perhaps it was something that Hermione was ashamed of. Something she wouldn’t want her former Head of House knowing about out of some sort of fear of drawing her disappointment? He couldn’t guess for sure, but he certainly had some ideas.

Some of those rumors that had circulated in the _Prophet_ , for example… Maybe there was more weight to them than he’d originally anticipated.

More of a mystery for him to solve then, wasn’t there?

“Very well, then, Granger. I’ll take your case.” He held up a hand to silence her before she could start to thank him.

“ _However_ , I expect you to be fully open and honest with me throughout this process. I can’t be expected to help you if you don’t allow me to.”

She was blushing again, and Severus knew he’d hit a nerve, but hopefully it meant that she was going to listen to him.

“I agree to those terms, yes.”

“Good. You’ll join me for dinner tonight, then. I’ll write the address down for you. Will seven be an acceptable time?”

Hermione blinked up at him, looking rather owlish all of a sudden with her big eyes. “...I, well, yes, I suppose. Seven should be fine.”

“Good.” Severus got to his feet then, giving Minerva a small bow. “Minerva, if you would be so kind as to loan me a bit of parchment so that I might write down my address? I’ll take my leave of you then so you may continue to catch up with Miss Granger.”

“You don’t have to leave so suddenly, Severus, hones-”

“I have things to prepare before this evening. The parchment, if you please?”

Minerva huffed and muttered something under her breath about his brusqueness, but retrieved the parchment and a quill for him anyway.

He murmured his thanks, quickly wrote down his address and handed it over to Hermione. “Please keep that for yourself, Miss Granger. I… Enjoy my privacy, after all.”

But before she had a chance to respond, he gave both her and Minerva another small bow and was out the door.

Doing his best to ignore the way the castle itself seemed to protest his leaving.

_I’m no good for you. We’ve already been over this._

_You were better for me than you’ll ever know._ He heard Her whisper back, and he closed his eyes, letting out a long, slow sigh as he passed back through the gates and Apparated away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it too early to add the cliffhangers tag to my tags? 🤔

**Author's Note:**

> You can always come find me on [tumblr](blxck-cxffee13.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me at more than one place ;)


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